


Cry of the Raven

by ravendas



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21551071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravendas/pseuds/ravendas
Summary: Alexa Trevelyan was known throughout Thedas as "The Raven": one of the most ruthless and dedicated members of the Stalkers, a sub-set of the Templar Order devoted to hunting down the most dangerous and elusive apostates and Maleficarum.However, her journey to the Conclave did not end as she had planned. First branded a criminal, then a savior by the Chantry, she must force herself to ally with elven apostates, Tevinter magisters, and other unsavory elements in order to save the world she knows.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Just an intro to my new (possibly canon) Inquisitor, Alexa.  
> This will not become a longfic (You hear that, self?...it won't...I can't handle another one!), but will probably just include any drabbles I want to jot down while playing her. She's going to be unlike most of my other characters...and will probably piss off a good portion of her companions/advisors. I think she'll end up with Cullen, though...after a brief period of loathing him for "abandoning" the Templar Order.
> 
> So...here we go!

“Why is _she_ here?!”

Knight-Commander Mikel Trevelyan followed the Senior Enchanter’s gesture towards a shadowy corner of the meeting room. Lounging casually against the wall, arms crossed, stood a tall, slender woman dressed in the supple high-collared midnight blue attire of one of the rare few rogues that were a part of the Templar Order. Hair of a shade that seemed to shift between raven-wing black and a deep steel gray was cut in a short, choppy bob around her face, partially falling over eyes of pale silver. Lips painted in a deep russet burgundy pursed at the men’s scrutiny.

“She’s my cousin”, Mikel replied drolly, as though that fact should have been blatantly obvious to the mage. Indeed, they shared the same ivory-pale skin tone, hawk-like nose, and feline eye shape.

The mage only snorted derisively, pale brown eyes rolling, “She’s a _Stalker_.” The term that had been given to the small, but elite group of assassins within the Order was spat contemptuously. “I thought this was supposed to be a peaceful conclave.”

Mikel shrugged, “The Divine invited _all_ factions to the Conclave. How many Maleficarum and apostates wander these halls, I wonder?”

“Hopefully none”, the mage sniffed, “and there are certainly none being allowed to idly spy upon the proceedings.”

“Fine, I’ll leave”, the woman pushed away from the wall with a nonchalant air, though Mikel did not miss the manic gleam in her eyes when the mage had mentioned apostates and Maleficarum. The Stalkers were specifically trained to hunt such renegade mages…and they took an almost-fanatical pleasure in doing so. Perhaps it was to everyone’s advantage that The Divine had required all parties to disarm before being admitted to the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

_Not that taking away their staves would be able to stop any of the mages here. But we Templars are also more than just our swords and shields…as they have discovered multiple times._

As the door closed behind her, Alexa Trevelyan couldn’t help but smirk to herself. She had known that her presence would stir up the mages, but she didn’t really care. _Let them keep looking over their shoulders, wondering which one of them we might be coming for._

Even though it was as the mage had said and this was supposed to be a peaceful parley between the Templars and mages, Alexa knew that it was more likely than not that the truce would fall apart. There were still reports of fighting between knots of apostates and Templars (who the Order had declared “rogue”, but she felt like it was those who were willing to kowtow to the mages and accept this freedom they had given themselves who were the real renegades). She doubted either side would be willing to just lay down their arms because the Chantry said so.

Her fingers twitched restlessly as she paced the halls, desperate to feel the smooth leather hilts and weight of her daggers in her hands once more. She just knew something was going to happen and being forced to give up her blades was like giving up her very soul. She felt empty and helpless.

“Someone help me!”

Alexa paused at the scream that had come from behind a heavy wooden door. The heavily-accented Orlesian was pitched high with desperate hysteria. _That sounded like The Divine! Are those wretched mages actually moving directly against her?!_

Heedless of the danger, she threw herself against the double doors, emerging into what might have once been a storeroom. Crates and boxes were shoved against the walls to clear the space for…some sort of ritual?

She could feel the magic electrifying the air, a towering figure that was a man…and yet not…dominating the center, the helpless form of Divine Justinia suspended in midair before him. An engraved silver ball scintillating with emerald energy was clutched in one of the creature’s clawed hands. It seemed to be siphoning The Divine’s very essence into itself.

The creature…whose body was crusted with some sort of strange glowing red crystal, pointed a long, bony finger directly at her. “We have an intruder. Kill her.”

For the first time, she noticed there were others in the room as well…all clad in the distinctive silver-and-azure garb of the Grey Wardens. _Andraste’s tits…what are they doing here and why…?!_ Before she could finish the thought, a sharp movement caught her eye just in time to see the orb rolling across the floor straight towards her. Even though every sense screamed at her not to touch it, blind instinct took over. Even as her fingers touched the surface, her mind faintly registering the strange warmth emanating from it, the orb flared to life, sending an electric shock through her arm. She couldn’t drop it, she couldn’t even scream as white-hot pain enveloped her. And through all of that, she heard the creature scream in dismay as everything around her exploded….


	2. Abandoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon her arrival in Val Royeaux, Alexa had anticipated a cold reception by the people and the Chantry. But nothing prepared her for the heartbreak of having the Order she had given her life to turn its back on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick drabble of head-canon.  
> Again, In this work, I'm trying hard not to cover the gameplay itself, but mainly Alexa's reactions to the events and various outside-the-storyline things I come up with as I play.  
> Enjoy!

_“You are the one who has betrayed the Order! Associating yourself with apostates and heretics! Allowing them to prop you up as some sort of prophet! You are not fit to call yourself one of us!”_

Lord Seeker Lucius’ words echoed repeatedly in Alexa’s mind as she sat alone in the small cottage provided for her in Haven. Cassandra had wanted to call a war council immediately, but Alexa made the excuse that she needed to rest first. But, in reality, she just did not want anyone to see her this way…defeated and despairing.

Her vision blurred as dampness filled her eyes. When was the last time she had cried? She couldn’t even remember. It wasn’t when she was taken from her family to join the Order. It wasn’t even when the training pushed her beyond every physical, mental and emotional limit she had. Nor after the Conclave exploded into ash and flame, her own cousin, along with a third of the Order, lost in the destruction.

She had given almost her entire life to the Order. She had been feared and respected in equal measure. And now…it was gone. The Lord Seeker turned his back on her and led the remaining Templars of Val Royeaux from the city to pursue his “destiny”, leaving her behind like an unwanted bit of garbage.

Rising, she paced the wooden floor of the cottage like a caged animal. That’s what it felt like: a cage. She was used to being “out there”, pursuing her quarry, not stored away in a wooden box until someone needed her. The Stalkers were, by their very nature, loners. A few might band together on rare occasions for taking down an organized group of apostates or a particularly dangerous Maleficarum. But, for the most part, they lived and worked solo. Like the prey she pursued, she tended to avoid cities, unless she needed supplies or information. Being confined within the town, surrounded by so many people…people whose eyes followed her every move, whose whispers carried to her ears…was irritating.

The bottle of wine on the small table nearby silently tempted her, but she abstained…as she always had. Dulling her senses was never an option, especially surrounded by so many unknown variables. Rebel mages and former Templars all mingled with townsfolk, craftsmen, and clergy unheeding of the Inquisition’s censure by the Chantry they once served.

Unable to contain herself a moment longer, she released a frustrated cry, slamming a fist into the wall hard enough to rattle a few books from the nearby shelves. A second later, a voice called out tentatively from the other side of the door, “Herald? I apologize for disturbing you, but…we are about to gather the council.”

Alexa recognized the voice as that of the Inquisition’s Commander, Cullen, and could not help but recall his words prior to her departure to Val Royeaux: “We are no longer Templars! We are all part of the Inquisition!” He had mentioned to the Antivan Ambassador, Josephine that he was once a Templar himself, but no longer. She made a mental note to inquire about that at some point. Had he left the Order? Or was he kicked out for joining the Inquisition? Or for something else? Though a another part of her asked, _Does it matter? You are no longer a Templar yourself, according to the Lord Seeker._

Swiftly squashing that thought and composing herself, she opened the door, silently taking note that the bracers he wore still bore the flaming sword insignia of the Templars. _So, he still holds some sort of loyalty to them, it seems. He was the one pushing the idea of going to them for help, after all._ Shelving her curiosity, for now, she stepped from the cottage and gestured him towards the Chantry, “I am ready, lead on.”


End file.
